Luyện nghe bài hát Rap Poets

as soon as hip hop out it was a music that i could grasp and identify with the millennium.

all and round!
from the first to the last, it is in the
clear shit! all my want my..
the hip pop is out!
..my rap poem.

there's a certain when i speak that you notice
cause it's of unique, cause you know it's me,
my poetry is deep and i'm mad at the way i flow to this beat!
i can't stand still, like trying smoke crack and go to sleep,
i'm strapped it's any minute i could snap,
i'm the equivalent of would happen if bush rapped
i bully these so bad lyrically
it ain't even funny, i ain't hungry, it ain't even money
you pay me enough for you to play me
it's cockamanie you just ain't zany to rock with shady
my noodle is cock-a-doodle, my coo-coo
i got screws loose, yea the whole kitten caboodle, i'm just
no rumor, i'm numero uno, assume it
there's no more humor in it, no you know
i'm rolling with a swollen ball in my bag
you need a fag to come and tear a near in my ass!

young hov got the game in a
twenty sold all independently,
so you mention me
make you got together your 'semblies
like, "he's the j.f.kennedy"
i started out, i ain't no chimney
my ma was claus, well, at least she pretended to be
'til one night, well, if memory serves me correct
i her under the christmas tree.
young hov ain't no pops
god, man, i had the block
ya'll me though
you young fucks got the game all
this is my life, man, this no song!
you ain't livin' your rhymes out, you live at mom's house
in that tight-ass room, the cars out
and the mirror pointin' at your reflection, yourself
you american pie, stop yourself!

:]
i woke up on my born day, i'm twenty years of blessing
the of adolescent leaves my body now i'm fresh in
my physical is celebrated cause i made it
one quarter through life some god-ly like thing
got rhymes 365 days annual some
up the mic and bust one, cuss while i puffs from
my skull cause it's pain in my brain vein maintain
don't go the grain simple and plain!
when i was young at this i used to do my hard
robbin' foreigners take they wallets they jewels and rip green cards
dipped to the projects flashin' my cash
and got my first of ass smokin' blunts with hash
now all about cash in abundance, niggaz i used to run with
is rich or doin in the hundreds
i switched my motto -- of sayin fuck tomorrow
that buck that a bottle could've struck the lotto.
i stood on the block, loose cracks produce stacks
i cooked up and cut pieces to get my loot back
time is illmatic keep static wool fabric
pack a four-matic that crack whole cabbage!